


The Trailer in Wyoming

by CloverHighFive



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Day Off, Domestic, Gen, Road Trips, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloverHighFive/pseuds/CloverHighFive
Summary: The boys stop by a hunter’s trailer for the night to rest. They get an unexpected visit. [A/N - for the fun of following the boys on a day off... with a bittersweet twist.]





	The Trailer in Wyoming

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the painting of the trailer, included in the fic, Art for Pareidolia by gnatkip ( https://gnatkip.dreamwidth.org/83966.html ), and this story popped in my head. It takes place during/end of season 3, when things are still pretty much black and white for the boys when it comes to dealing with the supernatural.

Hunters travel a lot. They stay at motels most of the time, but, sometimes, they need to stop in the middle of nowhere.

Over the years, hunters have acquired and maintained hidden spots for any other hunter to stop by and rest. Cabins, trailers, nothing too fancy. Not everyone knew about every spot, but word got around. There was no need for a hidden key, all hunters knew how to pick locks. Usually, those places had two beds; sometimes more, and you could squeeze in four people. 

On rare occasions, hunters would meet other hunters this way, coming in an already occupied place. Sometimes they were going on a hunt, sometimes they were on their way home. 

They’d exchange stories, tactics and even some neat gear they’d collected. They’d take time to sharpen their knives, clean their guns. They’d show off their weapons collection and they’d compare scars. They’d repair their cars. They’d see to their wounds.

There was one little trailer lost somewhere in Wyoming. You had to find the dirt road off the highway, and when the dirt road ended, you drove on a little more, and there, in a clearing, stood the trailer. It was mustard yellow, with a white stripe across. The light over the main door was broken, but the trailer was otherwise in order.

It was late afternoon. The skies were mostly clear, and the expanse of grassy land around the trailer had warmed up in the sun all day. At this hour, though, almost half of it was in the shadow of the trees. She could hear the leaves rustling in a light breeze, distracting her from the smell of warm greenery and wild flowers. There was a few hours left of daylight.

A big, black car came by, rumbling lazily. It came to a halt by the trailer. Two hunters came out of it, two tall men. They stretched and groaned, visibly sore from spending long hours sitting. They both wore jeans and about three layers of tops – a shirt, a flannel, and a coat of sorts. The taller one took a little pouch from his pocket and headed for the door. The other one went around the car, opened the trunk and took a bag. He left the trunk open and walked to the trailer.

She came closer. She heard them talking. One asked the other, “So, Sam, a little rusty with picking locks? Come on, it’s just a trailer.” He was not actually angry. She could see he was just teasing. He was really handsome. Somewhere in her brain, it sent a strange feeling of déjà-vu. “Shut up, Dean,” said the one called Sam, as he opened the door. Both boys entered the trailer, leaving the door open. She saw Dean get out again, and get a big pouch from the trunk, shut it, and get back in the trailer, closing the door.

She walked around. The day was very quiet, very beautiful. She went up the dirt road. She went in the forest. She came back about an hour later.

Dean was outside, wearing only boxers and a t-shirt – but still had his boots on – putting clothes on a line. He had tied up one end of the rope around the support rack of the a/c and the other around the nearest tree – which was not that near. The line was comically long and was only filled to the third of its length. She saw Dean put the last clothespin on a pair of boxers and pin the rest he had in his hand on the line. He put his hands on his waist and just stood there, looking around, breathing in the warmth. Suddenly, he seemed to think of something. He looked around at the ground, walked around a little until he was at the edge of the forest. He went back to get a clothespin and used it to snatch a few leaves from a plant. He came back to the clothes drying on the line and stuffed the leaves in a sock. He laughed to himself and darted a worried look to the open door of the trailer. He put the clothespin back on the line, laughed to himself again. He headed back in. She decided to follow.

“I’m surprised you even know how to cook,” said Dean, rummaging in the bag that contained weapons, getting a gun out. She looked at Sam, whose back was turned, cooking something on the oven. He too was wearing boxers, a t-shirt and his boots. “Hey, I’m surprised at your cooking!”, he said, without turning. Dean sat down at the table, started to dismantle the gun. “Hey! I make a mean burger. And, don’t forget I’m the one who cooked for you when we were kids, when dad was out hunting.” Oh, so they were brothers, she thought, not just hunter friends. Sam laughed a bit. “You call mac and cheese cooking?” Dean was looking down the barrel as he was running a brush through it. “I kept you alive, didn’t I?” He looked up from his gun, gesturing the brush at Sam, “And you grew up big and strong, so shut up.” Sam laughed.

Sam extended an arm to the cupboard and took two plates. He filled them and turned around, announcing with amused pride, “Get ready for eggs and toast, then.” “And beer,” Dean said, as he got two beers from the fridge. They ate in silence for a moment, and Dean said, “You know what that reminds me of?” Sam looked up, waiting for Dean to continue. “It reminds me of when I get out of the bar and it’s already morning. And I’m hungry, so I go get breakfast, but I still have the taste of beer lingering.” Sam’s mouth lifted in a smirk. Dean continued, “As much as you remind me of some of my dates, they were still prettier. Much prettier than you.” They both laughed.

Sam took care of cleaning up, Dean got back to his gun. As Sam was washing the pan, he asked Dean, “Do you think Dad knew about this place?” Dean answered, as he was taking care of nooks in the gun, “Yeah, that’s how I knew about it. It’s in his journal.” “I wonder what kind of case he worked here. I mean, it’s pretty remote,” said Sam, as he dried the dishes. Dean was putting the gun back together. “Something about a vampire. He got the whole nest, actually.” “Nice.”

John Winchester. His face popped in her head like a neon sign. She looked at Dean. That’s where the déjà-vu came from, he had inherited his father’s features. He looked much younger, though. The vampire. She remembered it so vividly. It had taken her husband and their twin daughters. John Winchester had arrived just as the vampire was about to get her. John Winchester had saved her. He had expressed genuine and heartbreaking remorse at not getting there sooner. He had stayed in town almost a week to make sure she was alright – well, considering the circumstances. He had helped her carry the grief. He had told her about his two sons, because she’d asked him to. She had needed to hear another parent’s love for their child. She had shared stories of her twin daughters. He had listened.

She decided to appear to the brothers. She wanted to tell them how thankful she was. And so she did. Sam had put all the dishes away and was sitting at the table, cleaning a gun. Dean was finishing up on the one he’d started on before dinner. And so she appeared between them, at the end of the table.

“Hi. Please don’t be afraid.”

Both boys snapped their heads up and backed so quick they fell off their chairs, sending gun parts in the air. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, it’s like you’ve never seen a ghost before.” But Dean was already up and getting a shotgun from the bag. “Please, Dean. I’m not here to hurt anyone.” She saw him take the shotgun out anyway and aim it at her while Sam was getting back up. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I sincerely didn’t mean to scare you. Are you hurt?” Dean just looked at her, unmoving. Sam answered, “I’m OK. Who are you?”

“Someone who knew your father.” The boys straightened up, looked at each other and back at her. Dean asked, “What?” She went on. “Your father, John Winchester, right?” “Right…” “He saved me.” Dean lowered his gun a little. “Well sweetheart, I’m sorry to break this to you, but… you’re dead.” She shot an exasperated look at him. “Thank you, Captain Obvious, for the newsflash.” Dean looked confused. Sam was chuckling. Dean tried to save face. “Cause you said he saved you.” She explained to Dean as you would explain to a child, “You are aware that even the people you save, one day, they’ll die. You do know that, right?” She turned to Sam. “Is he always this slow?” She turned back to Dean. “I mean, you got your father’s good looks, but it seems the brains skipped a brother.” Dean was not happy. He pursed his lips, which accentuated his dimples. Sam was still chuckling. 

“Come on, guys, get the gun down – it’s not going to hurt me anyway, I’m a ghost – just sit, I’ll tell you.” And she told them what had happened. How much a hero John had been in taking down the vampire. She’d heard the brothers say he had taken out the whole nest; she was even more happy to learn that. She hadn’t known about nests. She told them John had been present and had brought much comfort to her in such a difficult time. She saw Dean listen to her, head bent, looking intensely at her from under his eyebrows. Sometimes, when she’d say how John was good to her, he’d look at the floor. Sam seemed more relaxed. But he also seemed lost in thought when she touched the subject of their father being such a good friend to her.

“I understand your father passed. My sincere condolences. Was it recently or…” Dean didn’t look up. “It’s been almost a year.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” “It’s OK, thanks.” “Yeah, thanks,” added Sam.

Dean bent down and picked up pieces of guns off the floor. Sam sat back in his chair. “So what are you still doing here? I mean… you’re a ghost, so… What happened?” Dean looked up and sat back as well, putting the gun pieces on the table.

“John took me here to rest, to be out of the house while the cleaners took all the blood out of…” her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, it’s still…” Sam gestured to her, “It’s OK, I’m sorry.” “Anyway,” she continued, “I came to see John one last time before he left, but he was already gone. I was sad, it was a beautiful day – much like today – so I decided to take a walk. I was lost in my head and I got lost in the woods. I got attacked by wolves. They killed and ate me. It’s really a stupid, useless death.” The brothers raised their eyebrows. They seemed to agree it was quite a stupid, useless death.

Dean turned his head a bit to the side, squinted his eyes. “But you’re still here.” She put a thumb out and gestured vaguely to the forest. “My bones are still there. They found my car, but never found my bones. They said it was suicide and stopped searching after a few days. I can understand.” The boys agreed. “So I knew this trailer here was used by hunters – your father, of course, had explained his line of work to me. I decided to stick around to protect the hunters, with the hope of seeing John again one day. But he never came back.” Dean raised an eyebrow, pursed his lips, nodded, and looked at Sam. Sam seemed to agree.

Sam turned back to her. “How long have you been here then? And what do you mean, protecting the hunters?” “Oh, I must have been here around, what, 15 years. And the way I protect them is by keeping the other creatures off these grounds, so the hunters could really rest after – or before – a hunt. It’s the least I could do. It’s my way of helping other people. It’s my way of giving back.” Dean was looking nowhere in particular, deep in thought. Sam spoke up again. “Did you ever appear to any other hunter?” “No, I was afraid… can you kill a ghost?” – Dean looked up at her – “I’m sure you can do something. I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay and help. So I simply walked the grounds, and made sure it was all peaceful and quiet. I never even went in the trailer when a hunter was here. The lights would flicker, and they’d hunt me down. And I didn’t want that.”

Dean took a deep breath. He looked up at Sam. Sam took a deep breath too. Dean said to Sam, “You know, we can’t…” Sam said, “I know.” She looked at them, puzzled. “What?” Dean shot a glance at Sam, sighed deeply again, and said, “Can you show us where your bones are?” “Why?” “To give you a proper burial. It’s the least we can do.” Sam interjected, “To thank you, because you’ve been helpful, even though we didn’t know. We want to do something for you. Commemorate you.” The brothers were looking at her expectantly. She thought a bit. “Well… that actually would be nice. Could you tell the police too? So my parents, my brother know I didn’t commit suicide…” Sam agreed warmly with the idea. “Of course, of course. By all means.”

“So, Sam, you go with her. I’m in my boxers, I can’t go out walking in the woods like this.” Sam looked at Dean flatly. “We’re both in our boxers. Why me more than you?” “Cause I said so. I’m the oldest. You listen to me.” Sam shot Dean an exasperated look, collected an empty bag and gestured to her. “OK, I’m following you.”

Sam was trying to keep up with her in the woods. “I brought a flashlight, but still, how long do we have until it’s dark in here?” “No need to be afraid of the dark, I’ll protect you.” “I don’t think you can protect me from tripping over roots.” She laughed. “We’re good. The sun sets in about one hour, and we have another half hour of good light after that. We’re going to be back by then.”

About 30 minutes later, they were standing over the place where her bones, 15 years earlier, had been chewed on by wolves and cleaned up by bugs. It took Sam quite a while to collect all the bones. He even counted them to make sure. “My goodness, you’re thorough,” she remarked. Sam closed the bag. “I have to. It’s important.” She smiled at him. “Thanks. It’s really nice.” Sam smiled, but it seemed tainted by sadness.

As promised, they were back before the night had fallen completely. She saw Dean had dug out a grave, not too deep. He was sitting on the pile of dirt, having a beer. “There you are. Got all the bones?” Sam answered, “I’m missing a few very small ones, but I think we’re good.” “Super.” Sam emptied the bag in the grave. She saw Dean get up, get a container and empty it in the grave. She saw it was salt. “Hey, what are you doing?” Dean answered while he was emptying the can, “We’re giving you a hunter’s funeral.” He looked up at her. “It’s the highest form of respect we can pay you, give you one of our funerals.” She peeked into the grave. “And that means putting salt in the grave?” “Actually,” explained Sam, “we also burn the bodies. We build a bonfire, put the bodies on them and burn them. But, since you have no body, we’re going to burn your bones.” “Ah,” she said, visibly emotional, “how nice. It’s very kind of you.” She saw Dean look up at Sam and sigh. Sam nodded.

Dean got the gas can and emptied it in the grave. Sam said, “Wait. Should we say a few words?” Dean looked at her, then at Sam. “Sure.” He stood straight, crossed his hands in front of him and waited. Sam turned to her. “We, Sam and Dean Winchester, want to thank you for your help, and to honour your memory by giving you a burial. We also want to thank you for protecting hunters all those years by giving you a hunter burial. Again, thank you.” She put a hand on her heart. “No, thank you Sam. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean lit up a bunch of matches. He looked up again at her, sadness in his eyes. Why was he so sad? She didn’t understand. This hunter’s burial was such a nice gesture. She looked at Sam. He seemed sad too. Maybe they wish she hadn’t died so stupidly. But those things happen.

Dean took a breath. “Again, thank you. And… And sorry. We had to.” His hand opened and the matches dropped..

The burning flames engulfed her and she heard herself scream in pain and surprise.  
Only a fleeting moment.


End file.
